


Gabriel Has Two Mommies

by BlackQat, LadyFangs



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Character formation, F/F, Gen, Growing up Gabriel, He's a little devil, Little Rascal, Young Gabriel Lorca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackQat/pseuds/BlackQat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFangs/pseuds/LadyFangs
Summary: He bleeds like crazy; Lurlene is frantic, but Mildred says, “Didn’t learn a thing did you boy. I bet you hardly felt it, you numbskull.”Gabriel shakes his head, a tinge of pride curving his lips. That boy is growing a damn smirk, just like Rafael’s. Rafael was a devil as a child, too. And oh my god, the same dimples.





	Gabriel Has Two Mommies

**Author's Note:**

> This is an out-take for Human Nature II: Home is Where We Are.  
> ... a bit of background about our favorite starship captain.  
> How do Lorcas formulate? Haven't you wondered?

Mardi Gras. New Orleans going wild for one night before the forty days of Lent. Mildred Lorca’s from old New Orleans money and so is riding the float of Rex Krewe, one of the oldest-money Creole families in the city.

And who does she spot on Saint Charles Avenue but Rafael Rolle – that smooth operator and childhood friend, with whom she explored the sexual equipment at puberty, and college days partner-in-crime. He is a striking man, always has been. Eyes of tropical water blue, and dark brown hair. Pale skin that contrasts beautifully with both. And very well built, tall and strong.

So for several days at Mardi Gras – Rafael has come home from out of town – the two of them hang out together, drink too much and have sex, as they did in college. Mildred doesn’t tell Rafael that she just broke up with her first serious girlfriend. That’s why she’s done little but drink over Carnival, and doesn’t that just fit. What better time to party and forget your cares. _Laissez les bon temps roulez_ , baby.

Just like their college days, their sex is good, as long as they don’t talk about anything substantive. Neither of them is in the mood. They go out and eat, and party along Bourbon Street and Rue Royal, taking in the touristy jazz clubs for laughs. And Mildred, frankly, just wants to get off sexually a few times, just get the bad old feelings out and replace them with good physical whoopee.

“Hey,” he jokes the first time. “Show us your tits.”

“Ha, ha. Let’s just do it, okay Rafael?”

Rafael is good in bed. He was quite the busy blade at Xavier, too, but Mildred was his favorite partner. She wanted nothing more than friendship and sex. Other women wanted … commitment. Not Rafael’s specialty. But sex …. ohh yeah. Both of them were and still are quite creative in that area.

And it’s good, but Mildred is pretty drunk that whole week. Nothing like Carnival and good sex to take your mind off your first beautiful woman. Your first realization that you love women as much as – or more than – men. She’s thinking maybe this is her last time with a man. Maybe she just wants women from now on. Because Dar, the love she’s getting over, was a deeper love than anyone she’s ever known before.

So:  drunk … horny … not thinking too much about the man/woman thing, somebody forgets about contraceptive measures. You can get a yearly shot, and that’s probably what Rafael thought Mildred was doing. Rafael is rather sloppy with his own schedule, because after all if a woman gets pregnant, she usually wants to, in his book.

But Mildred had been with Dar for the last two years.

Rafael goes on his merry way after Carnival. “I’ll call you,” he says. Famous last words. Mildred doesn’t hear from him. And she really doesn’t care, because three weeks after Rafe leaves, Mildred meets Lurlene. The most beautiful, sweetest woman, an opposites-attract; Lurlene is honey to Mildred’s vinegar, and somehow the two of them are spooning on the porch swing, walking the humid streets of New Orleans, brunching and lunching and cooking barbecue, riding the streetcars at all hours, giggling together, mixing crazy creative drinks, holding each other, falling in love.

Mildred worries that maybe it’s a rebound romance, but Lurlene is truer than anyone she’s ever met in her life, except maybe her Nana Lucille. Nana would tell anybody where to get off, but in the nicest, sweetest way possible, a skill Mildred sometimes wishes she had, but does not waste time on. Mildred doesn’t have to worry about pleasing people, she comes from money. And Lurlene is okay with that. She sees past Mildred’s edgy exterior to the intellect beneath. The devotion. The deep-dive sensibility when it comes to learning. The incredible sense of dry humor. The perfect makings of a good professor, and Mildred is an engineering PhD. Lurlene? Music. And she loves to sing.

Mildred sees unabashed goodness in her. Her father snarks that Lurlene is all goodness and light and “oh my look at all your money, Mildred,” but Mildred knows better. She really does. She knows she’s not fooling herself with Lurlene like she fooled herself with Dar. Because Lurlene sees all of her and loves her anyway. She’s not competitive either. Dar always had to be smarter, a better designer, a faster runner. From the moment Mildred set eyes on Lurlene, she knew Lurlene was The One.

A month or two into their love affair that’s building into a lifetime commitment, Mildred says, “Lurlene. I think I’m pregnant.”

Lurlene doesn’t gape at her, she heard all about the fling with Rafael during Carnival. She heard all about Dar, too, but that was their first Very Deep Conversation. When Lurlene hugged Mildred close, and said, “Dar lost a very precious thing when she lost you.”

“She didn’t lose me so much as drive me away,” Mildred says, and they move into talking about commitment and love and other very serious life matters. Whereupon college days and the late affirmation of Mildred’s sexual identity came up, and the story of Rafe, and how they had met up this year and flung a fling.

“So I caught pregnant, probably, and I don’t think I want—”

Lurlene gets the big eyes now, saying, “Oh please say you’re going to have it? You wouldn’t—”

“I was about to say, I don’t think I want to give this baby up.”

“Oh good! How perfect for us! I’ve always wanted a child to love.”

“And spoil rotten, no doubt.” Mildred says it with love, though. Lurlene spoils _her_ rotten.

Lurlene is enthusiastic, moreso than Mildred, who hates being pregnant, especially in the summer. Summer that drags its wet-ass feet into a chill, damp fall, and an even chillier, wet winter.

The ultrasound: “Is that his tiny arm?” Lurlene says. “Is he making a fist?”

Mildred turns to her with an acid look and points. “His arms are up there.”

The doctor says brightly, “Boy babies can get erections in utero, did you know that?”

Lurlene takes another look and gasps. _Oh my poor Mildred!_

.

Mildred is so ready for that baby to get out of her. The little bugger hasn’t stopped moving for the last five months, poking her bladder, now her lungs, kicking her ribs, her lower back, every organ in her peritoneal cavity and some outside of it. Even the doctor is concerned.

When Gabriel is born at the end of a nasty, cold rainstorm on December 10th he’s over 10 pounds.

Lurlene is not in favor of giving him an angel name, but Mildred insists on “Gabriel.”

“I’ll pray to the angels every day for him then. I have _never_ known a child named ‘Angel,’ ‘Michael,’ or any of the other angel names who doesn’t turn out to be the devil incarnate.” This is probably the first negative statement Mildred has ever heard out of Lurlene.

Women start swooning over Gabriel Lorca, the little imp, the day he is born, and Lurlene loves showing him off. Mildred is low-key and matter-of-fact, slinging the baby wherever she goes, but Lurlene likes to make more of a production, dressing him just so and wheeling him about. “Ohh, what a cute little man!” The blankets are always some shade of blue, the clothes always have a touch of blue or pure white; Lurlene loves accenting those intense blue eyes of his. And his dark wavy hair compels people to touch his head.

He is a charmer, except the day, aged three, he hoots with the bonobos at the Audubon Zoo. What a racket! Mildred wants to smack the noise right out of his mouth, but as usual, Lurlene takes him a distance away to give Mildred a break. Mildred has some serious stink-eye going on.

One day about age four, Gabriel wonders what it’d be like to run into a wall. Mildred says, “If you do run into it and hurt your head don’t come cryin’ to me,” and he does, and bangs his head hard. He bleeds like crazy; Lurlene is frantic, but Mildred says, “Didn’t learn a thing did you boy. I bet you hardly felt it, you numbskull.”

Gabriel shakes his head, a tinge of pride curving his lips. _That boy is growing a damn smirk, just like Rafael’s. Rafael was a devil as a child, too. And oh my god, the same dimples. He is gonna be a pussy magnet, though I better not tell Lurlene. She loves him uncritically. She does not know this child like I do. Gabriel should thank Lurlene every day of his life. He would not last long otherwise. The reason children are so damn cute is that you’d probably kill them._

Throughout his younger years, little restless adventurer Gabriel falls out of trees, runs too fast and scrapes himself on the cobblestones, once to the bare bone.

He comes home crying his head off, hoo-hooing almost as loudly as a bonobo.

Mildred looks up from her Padd. “Are you dying, boy?”

Heaving sobs he cries, “I donnnn’t knooowww,” sobbing some more, for great effect but _perhaps_ not knowing the drama he’s creating. Mildred will give him a pass, he’s only five years old.

“Are you broken? Streaming blood?” She takes a cursory glance. There is blood, and it’s dripping onto the fancy carpet Lurlene bought for their first anniversary. Lurlene doesn’t come from old money, but she has old money taste.

Mildred sighs and gets up. “Boy, what the hell did you do?”

All he can say is, “Th-there—there was a thin-n-ng, when I was running, and I tripped over the thing and it cut me.”

 _I’ll bet you did it on a dare,_ thinks Mildred. There is no challenge from his peer group that Gabriel will refuse.

Then Mildred gets a better look at Gabriel’s knee. Is that _bone_?! “Lurle-e-e-ne,” she hollers. Her wife is in the back yard planting flowers and has heard none of the commotion. (That’s a good word for Gabriel, a _commotion_.)

She comes running in. Mildred never yells with that kind of urgency. Usually she yells to vent a temper, but this is quite different, a tinge of high drift to it that in Lurlene, Mildred would call hysterical. Lurlene puts a hand to her mouth when she gets to the kitchen and the wounded Gabriel. “Oh my god, I see bone!”

Mildred stanches the wound as best she can while Lurlene holds a sterilight, bandage at the ready. Mildred puts on the pressure bandage and says, “I’m taking this boy to the doctor.”

“Don’t worry, Mama,” the child says to Lurlene, “I’ll be okay.”

Through the next few years, Gabriel breaks various limbs, and causes them no end of trouble. Mildred gets all the drama and wailing, but the boy always reassures Lurlene that he’ll be all right. Mildred takes all these things in stride, she knew to expect them the moment she saw that smirk.

Puberty was hell. The boy could not leave his dick alone. Mildred snuck into his bedroom every morning to slip the sheets and pillows into the refresher. She knew Lurlene did not want to see certain aspects of young manhood asserting themselves. Lurlene was tender-hearted but unrealistic.

Adolescence. At twelve, Gabriel was sent home from school one day, his face and legs a mass of bloody bruises. Somebody had kicked him and pummeled his face. Thank god Lurlene was out at her book club.

“What the hell is this?” Mildred said, dragging him into the bathroom and getting out the much-used dermaplaser.

“I got into a fight.”

“What else is new.”

“Jimmy Brennan was picking on Josephine Cartier, I like her and he said she was dumb. She is not dumb, she’s just shy.”

“Oh I bet she’s not shy with you, is she.”

Gabriel deployed the baby blues. “She’s _nice_ , Mother.”

“Just what does that mean at your age.”

“We talk about science, and I help her with math … sines, co-sines and tangents.” He can’t help himself. He smirks. And Mildred, to her own chagrin, smirks back and gives him a hug.

“I love that you’re so chivalrous, child,” she says. He holds her tight.

“I love you, Mother. You know me but you love me anyway.”

“Come on now, Gabriel. Lurlene loves you to pieces.”

“But Mama Lurlene doesn’t know me like you do.”

A couple of years later “Mama Lurlene,” in fact, tries to explain sexuality to Gabriel, but Mildred is quite sure it’s a little late now for that talk.

And by god, Gabriel says, “Mama, I learned all this when I was eight. I got curious and looked it all up.”

Lurlene gapes, but realizes that’s the boy’s nature, curious, and pats his hand to reassure herself.

Mildred says, “All right, boy, you be sure to use contraceptive, get your shot every year, and make sure whoever you’re with, that she does too. I don’t want to hear about any little Lorcas running around until you commit to someone.”

“But Mother—”

“Don’t ‘but mother’ me, son. I may have had you out of turn, but don’t make it a family tradition. Promise me.”

He nods, and Mildred and Lurlene both know he’ll be as good as his word. And unlike many people he will tell things to in his life, Gabriel tells only the truth to his mothers.

.

“All right Gabriel, you need an outlet for all that restless intelligence of yours,” Mildred says one night. He’s about to start his last year of high school. He is lanky and muscled, a fine figure of a young man. He loves playing sports, and usually ends up heading any team he’s on. Lurlene wants him to go to Tulane, where Mildred teaches advanced engineering.

Mildred wants him to go somewhere to adventure and expand that brilliant mind. And she thinks she knows just where he should be.

He has a gift for managing people (or manipulating them, depending). He has a gift for diplomacy where it’s needed. And he stands up for those he respects and who are not as strong as he is. Their boy is strong and dependable and the pride of their hearts.

“What do you think about Starfleet?” Gabriel says, surprising her. _Must have read my damn mind._ Mildred planned to introduce the idea of the Academy by using their rugby team (best college team in the USA, and a chance for him to run, ram and bleed several times a week!) as an inducement.

Lurlene stares at him for a second. “But you’ll be so far away, darling.”

He sits on the arm of her chair and hugs her around the shoulders. “Not really, Mama.” His voice has grown wonderfully deep, he sounds so grown as he says, “I won’t be with you all the time, that’s true. But I will be a transport away in San Francisco for the next four years, and after that … I’ll get home on leave as often as I can. Without you, I would never have been the kind of student who’d qualify.”

Lurlene says, “Without us, Gabriel, I’m not sure you’d still be alive.”

“Why, Lurlene,” Mildred touches her hand. “You knew this imp from day one, didn’t you.”

Lurlene just looks at her softly and nods, then hugs Gabriel close.

Mildred feels a smile come up from deep inside. “That’s our boy.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
